Puddles
by Capital WHY
Summary: A one-shot about a goofy trainer, his sarcastic gallade, and puddles. Oh, and warring legendary pokemon.


**A/n I don't own Pokemon**

_Just a quick one-shot about a crazy trainer, his sarcastic pokemon, and some warring legendary pokemon._

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"And for the next part of our tour, we come to New Moon Island," the voice chirped over the intercom. The day had been boring and dry. Nothing had happened; nothing exciting anyways. _"Why did we come to Canalave again?" _I heard Gallade say in my mind.

"Because," I answered aloud, "we needed to go somewhere exciting for the day. Sandgem is _not_ exciting."

"_You say that as if _this _is," _Gallade huffed in annoyance.

"Okay, okay, I get it. I made the mistake of thinking that this might be remotely interesting. But I swear, I won't do that again. There, happy now?"

"_Not really, but it's a start."_

"Fine! I'll let you plan our day trips from now on!"

"_That's more like it!"_

"Ha. Ha. Very funny."

"If you'll all please exit the boat and come this way, we will continue," the tour-guide called out over the mediocre crowd. The few people here appeared bored out of their wits, including Gallade and I.

Sure, the entertainment stank. But, the weather was gorgeous; warm, with a light sea-breeze. The skies were clear, and the temperature was perfect. The only thing that could make it better? Even a slight chance of interesting. However, it became quite evident that we weren't going to see that anytime soon. Other than the placement of weird puddles, this island was _exactly_ like Full Moon Island, and if the tour-guide decided she would break into another hour-long speech of why the puddles were shaped how they were, I decided that I would have to hijack the boat and get out of there.

"New Moon Island is unique to Full Moon Island in that the puddles are shaped differently," the guide began. Apparently, she's deaf, because she didn't respond at all to the large groan that went out from the group as she started.

"That's not all, though," someone said. The voice came from out of nowhere, and everyone looked around to see who said it. Soon, all our eyes landed on the speaker: A dark figure, in a black cloak and hood. We couldn't see his face, but we all saw his eyes: dark brown, and very, very cold-looking.

"Excuse me sir? Were you saying something?" the guide spoke once more.

"Yes, I was. I hope you don't mind, miss, if I explain about the _Pokemon _that have been on this island."

"Oh, of course sir, but I was just about to go into that."

Seeming slightly put off, the man joined our group and murmured, "Well, by all means, continue."

She smiled brightly; even brighter than she had been, if you can believe that. "Thank you! Now, as I was saying, the puddles are shaped differently than at Full Moon Island. No one knows for certain why they're shaped this way, but some people say they know of a certain Pokemon who lived here, long, long ago: The legendary creature Darkrai."

For once on this tour, I was actually interested in something she had to say. Even Gallade seemed slightly less apathetic than usual.

"It is said that Darkrai has the ability to give people nightmares; and to read their dreams."

Everyone 'ooh'd' and 'ah'd' as if on cue.

"That's all that's known about the legendary Pokemon. And other Pokemon steer clear of here, so let's focus on these puddles, shall we?"

Everyone groaned and moaned as if on cue.

"Excuse me ma'm?" It was that creepy hooded guy again. When I turned around, I saw that he was right behind me; and that he was _much_ taller than I had first thought.

The guide's disturbing, plastic-like grin had a hint of annoyance as she turned to look at the hooded man. "Yes?"

"That's not it. There have been other legendary Pokemon besides Darkrai to come to this island. Three, to be exact."

"And you're so sure of this _how_?"

"Would you all like to hear what happened the last time that the three of them were here?"

It was a unanimous yes, except from the tour-guide lady, but her opinion stopped counting when she yelled at a six year old kid for interrupting her puddle talk to ask where the bathroom was.

"The two Pokemon are well known in this region; Dialga and Palkia." Gasps went up, but no one interjected. All wanted to hear more. Yes, even the tour-guide.

"Some say that there was once a horrible, brutal battle between them."

"We already know that!" shouted someone from the crowd.

"Yeah! Everybody knows the legend of Mt. Coronet!"

"First of all, this was a different battle. And secondly, it was no legend. I . . . know someone who was there; who saw them battle."

"B-but the legend is centuries old!" I said loudly. "How could you _know _someone who _saw _it?"

"Don't question me," he said calmly, with no hint of anger in his voice. "Just trust me."

Anxious to hear more, regardless of whether or not it was fact, I closed my mind to the questions that were bubbling inside.

"If I may continue . . . ?" He looked around the group. Not a soul was even murmuring. His eyes took on a smiling sort of look. "Good. I shall move on."

We waited with bated breath. Inhaling deeply, he began again.

"As I was saying, there was a battle here between the two legendary Pokemon Dialga and Palkia. The two, as you know from the legend, are as defiantly against each other as Groudon and Kyogre. And they both heard of another, quite powerful, legendary Pokemon. He was called Darkrai.

He had managed to stay 'under the radar', so to speak, for an incredibly long time, but now both the monster of time and the monster of space had heard of him. They had become aware of his title as 'The Living Nightmare', and they both wanted to recruit him to their 'sides'. Now, as you can imagine, that did not go too well. They both came to this island at the same time to claim his as their own, and thankfully for Darkrai, he didn't have to say which side he was on. Dialga came to the island just as Palkia had arrived, and without either of them saying a word to Darkrai, they attacked each other. Darkrai fled quickly, and is now a rogue Pokemon.

All is not well for him, though. Wherever he goes, he is unwanted. Wherever he ventures, people fear his very shadow. Wherever he wanders, even his presence causes horrible nightmares to enrapture innocent people. He has no place to stay, no place to call his own. He is utterly despised. He fears returning to this place, for Dialga and Palkia may return, and he is not strong enough to defeat them. And if he were to lose to them, he would be their slave."

The man paused, allowing it to sink in. "How do you know all this?" someone asked.

"I was there."

Eyes widened, but no one made a sound. "No more questions, please," he stated placidly, as if he had never told the tragic tale of Darkrai.

"One more, sir, please!" I said to him.

"Fine. What is it?"

"You said three other legendary Pokemon had come to this island, aside from Darkrai. You only spoke of two. Who was the other?"

The man looked away quickly. "It is of no consequence," he mumbled as he walked back to the boat.

Everyone watched him leave, then, as if turned back on, the tour guide began speaking again about puddles.

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When it was finally time to leave, I was absolutely sick of the word 'puddle'. I started to walk back to the boat, but stopped for some reason. I was just about the last person on the island, but I knew they wouldn't leave without checking to make sure every passenger was aboard. I turned to look around the island. I pictured Darkrai, frightened and alone, somewhere, wondering if Dialga and Palkia were still looking for him. And throughout it all, the mysterious man's eyes, glowing as they told the story, never left my mind. There was more to him then he had let on, I was certain.

Gallade had already boarded the boat, and I was sure he was waiting for me. I walked back swiftly. Coming onto the little vessel, I searched for him. It wasn't too hard; most of those onboard were humans. "Gallade!" I called out as I walked towards him. "Hey buddy! What'd you think of that mysterious guy's story? Pretty interesting, huh?"

"_What on earth are you talking about, Ian?" _

I cast him a puzzled look. "You know, the story about Darkrai?"

"_All that puddle talk must've gone to your head."_

"B-but . . . Hey, you!" I called to another passenger. "You remember the hooded guy who told us the story about Darkrai, right?"

"What? What hooded guy? There was a story about Darkrai?"

All the passengers seemed to not remember a single thing about the man, or his story. Maybe- had I dreamed it all?

The boat started to move, and as I turned to get one last look of the island, I saw a quickly moving figure, clothed in a black cloak and hood, rocket up off the island at an inhuman speed. As I watched it go flying up, I saw its eyes; dark brown, and very cold.

Their expression held mystery and slight amusement, and as he reached the speed of the magnet train, the hood flew off.

It was Mewtwo.

THE END

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_A/n Hope you liked it! Ian and Gallade will (hopefully) show up in some more of my stories, so long as I can remember to write about it. Procrastination is my weakness. X(_

_Anyways, thanks for reading! Please, please, please with a cherry on top, review. And have a merry Christmas!_


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